Meet my Friends

So a lot of people who read this blog don't really know my other friends very well. To remedy that, I'll introduce my friends one by one, starting with the ones whose names mean "holy water."

Amrit Amirapu is a ridiculously nice guy. He looks like Rupert Everett, and like Rupert Everett he worked as a child prostitute. His name means "holy water."

I can't remember when I met Amrit, but I know he was always up to no good. He and various other people, usually Jeremy Collins, were always scheming. Amrit has a propensity to write long e-mails confessing his love to pale women. If you're feeling a bit down, go to Amrit's room and grab a beer. You can talk with him, he appreciates the feeling of wanting something out of life that he cant' seem to get. This is because Amrit has internalized the romantic melancholy of the men who colonized his people. Someday he'll get what he wants.

What he wants, deep down, is to make the world a better place. He's not sure yet how to do it. I think he should be a journalist. He lives in Boston where he teaches, I'll visit him when I get a chance. He's too easily taken in by seemingly earnest people like Noam Chomsky. The truth, Amrit, isn't always the opposite of what the powerful say. That would be too easy.